a confession

I'm going to make a confession here.  I still get emotional when it comes to things about Kamdyn. 

There are some who continue to struggle with the diagnosis of Down syndrome, what it means for their child, and their feelings about it.  Some hate Down syndrome.  They may even wish things were different.  They wish (fill in the blank).  There was a time when I stood in those shoes, and thankfully, those shoes are in a box in the back of the closet, awaiting an imminent drop off at the Goodwill.  Those feelings are a distant memory now.

Then, I read other people say that they never struggled with their child's diagnosis.  Others say they cannot remember the last time they cried about something concerning their child with Down syndrome.  Their moments of fear or sadness are in that box I described earlier, only a distant memory.

I never thought of myself as an overly emotional person or a crier.  But I'm going to admit, I cried last week. 

Not about Kamdyn having Down syndrome, or fear of what her future will be.  I feel like I am at a place where I embrace Down syndrome and what it is in our lives.  I enjoy being involved in the Down syndrome community.  I won't say never, because "never say never", but I don't worry about her future much anymore.  It will be what it will be, and I love Kamdyn whatever that future may be.  Sure, I hope that she can be one of these people with Down syndrome who goes to college, drives a car, gets married, etc., but she is amazing and awesome even if she doesn't.  I'm ok with however things go. 

The thing that still gets me is how she will be received by the world.  While I have never seen a child loved more by those who surround us, I know that the world is not the same way.  I know there are cruel people out there.  I know there are people who do not value her.  I know there are people who will say horrible things about her.  And I just don't know how to handle that yet.  And even taking a step down from that, I know there will be people who will be uncomfortable with her, and they will avoid her.  And I'm not even really sure how to accept that.  The adult, who may avoid eye contact with her, or the child who will move away from her, because her presence bothers them.  That is what still brings tears. 

When the children's choir director at our church told me that she looks forward to when Kamdyn can do choir with her, the tears started flowing.  I felt stupid for such a public display of emotion, but I couldn't help it.  I want people to welcome her, to embrace her.  I want her to be invited to birthday parties.  I want other kids to think she if fun and want to play with her.

I think these feeling are natural to have for any child.  My heart broke for Madison when she ran up to me, crying, and buried her head into my stomach, because 2 girls at the McDonald's play place told her she could not play with them.  While my mama instinct wanted to go stare down those girls and give them the "mom glare", I knew I had to let it go.  I wish these weren't lessons that my children had to learn, but they do.  They have to learn to handle rejection.  To pick their head up and keep moving forward.  To be proud of who they are and be confident in themselves. 

But with Kamdyn, this thought is harder.  It hurts a little, okay, a lot more. 

I know that as I go along, I will learn to adjust.  I'll learn to let it go.  I am convinced it will be harder for me than it will for her.  But I'll get there. 

Just like with everything else, I have found that she makes it effortless to find the good, the blessings, and the joy in any situation.  Whatever may come, I am blessed to be her Mommy.